


How Not to Tame a Horse

by rivendellelve



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur cuddling with cute animals, Arthur's magical power of animal friendship, Fluff, Gen, Horse taming, actually cuddling all the animals, feat. a Hungarian halfbred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21686113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivendellelve/pseuds/rivendellelve
Summary: People say the horse-taming in RDR2 is inacurate but they just don't take Arthur's magical power of animal friendship into account. aka Arthur cuddles the local wildlife while various gang members watch in bewilderment
Comments: 82
Kudos: 169





	1. How Not to Tame a Horse

“That stallion sure is beautiful.”

Charles followed Arthur's gaze to where a herd of wild horses was grazing. Closest to them was a truly magnificent flaxen chestnut stallion. Hungarian halfbred if he had to guess.

“Yeah, we could really use one like that.” They would need to get new horses for the cart sooner rather than later but their funds were low enough as it was.

“Let's tame him.”

“What?”

He wasn't sure he heard Arthur right. They were supposed to drop off some money and supplies and then ride out again to meet Sadie for a bounty. There certainly was no time for catching a wild horse, dragging it back to camp and breaking it or the alternative of spending weeks in the wild earning that horse's trust.

Arthur gestured at the stallion. “We catch him, take him back and then get him used to pulling a cart once we're done with this McGregor fellow.”

“Arthur, he's going to fight us the entire way. There's no way Taima and Artemis can do this _and_ be fit enough to ride out again.”

“Wat'chu talking about? He'll be fine.”

He watched Arthur dismount in quiet disbelief, uncertain as to what his friend was thinking. Taima already had a deer slung across her back and did not need the added burden of pulling a wild horse along. And Artemis, strong as the little Arabian was, was no match for a stallion twice her size. He shook his head as Arthur crept closer to the herd, lasso held loosely in his right hand. This was a bad idea.

The herd noticed Arthur, immediately on alert.

“Hey boy”, Arthur greeted the stallion.

Oddly enough, while the rest of the horses fled as soon as Arthur rose from his crouch, the stallion stayed. Ears flattened and nervously dancing in place but not running. Which was. Unusual. Arthur kept whispering soothing words to the horse, slowly reaching out to pet his neck. The horse let him. With one hand on the neck and the other moving the lasso in front of the horses head, he reminded Charles of a lion tamer expecting the animal to leap through a far too small circle.

He had to admit he was as impressed as he was confused - impressed that Arthur could touch the horse without it running away, confused as to why in the world it wasn't running. But either way, if Arthur could get the lasso around its neck, maybe with some treats, they – no. No, the fool threw the rope over its head and jumped on its back, startling the wild animal which did its best to buck him of. Even worse, he was only holding on with one hand, the other one patting its neck, while telling it to calm down, take it easy. Fat chance of that happening. He had thought Arthur too smart to be such an idiot, despite his big dumb oaf charade.

“Arthur”, he called, “wha-”

The rest of the sentence died at the tip of his tongue. The horse had stopped bucking. Not only that but it was also letting Arthur steer his movements to face Charles. Reluctantly and nervous but obeying nonetheless.

“See, we're friends now.”

Charles rubbed his eyes, pretty sure he had hit his head somewhere and was now hallucinating. Or maybe Uncle had filled his water bottle with alcohol in an attempt to get him to talk more. That made sense. At the very least more sense than what he just witnessed. He eyed Arthur and the horse with suspicion.

“Told you he'd be fine.”

“What did you do?”

“Pardon?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”, he repeated even though Arthur stared at him as if he had grown an extra head.

“I tamed this horse.”

Maybe they weren't speaking the same language.

“That is not how you – wait, did you, did you-” and there really was no word for it “- _tame_ Artemis the same way?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because horses can't be tamed like that.” He paused.  “Except by you apparently.” 

He still couldn't really believe it  but his curiosity was piqued . “And he's going to  do what you ask of him now?”

Arthur shrugged. “Pretty much. I mean, I gotta let him run a bit to get rid of all that restless energy he got right now and for more dangerous things I still gotta earn his trust but other than that we're good.”

“Just like that, huh?”

“It ain't hard, you can do it, too.”

He could not. In fact he could not even get the horse to stand still by talking to it, the way Arthur had. And Arthur's oh-so-helpful advise of “You just gotta let her know you mean no harm” did nothing to change that. After five tries of talking a horse into staying still and one of him just sneaking up and jumping on its back – his butt and shoulder a great reminder why people did not do this – he was ready to call quits. He got up and brushed the dirt of his clothes, looking for Arthur, who was maybe twenty feet away gently stroking a wild mare. Of course he was.

“Maybe try this one”, Arthur offered. “She's real sweat.”

“No, I've had enough. I don't know how you do it but I certainly can't.” 

He whistled for Taima, hearing Arthur do the same and of course. And of course the stallion also came. For someone who claimed to have no use beyond hitting or shooting people Arthur sure had a lot of hidden talents. While he was ready to go and they really shouldn't waste more time a thought too tempting to ignore had just struck him.

“Hey, can you do other animals?”

“ _What_?” How Arthur managed to stretch one syllable across two octaves was beyond him, maybe another secret talent but not one he was interested in right now.

“Can you _tame_ other animals the same way?”

“I don't know. I mean, I never tried and what would I even- I have no idea.” Arthur rubbed his neck, obviously uncomfortable.

“You could try. What's the worst that could happen?”

Arthur gave him a look. “I get eaten.”

“If you don't want to, you don't have to.” Despite his burning desire to find out more he did not want to force Arthur.

“Naw, it's alright just let me get some oats.”

Charles watched as Arthur sat down with his back against a tree, a little ways away from him and the horses.  He gave Charles a questioning look,  who motioned for Arthur  just  to go on.  he swore he saw Arthur sigh.

“Come and get your oats, woodland critters”, Arthur all but shouted, “Eat them, just don't eat me.”

“Arthur.”

“Right, sorry.”

Charles watched as the other man visibly relaxed, his posture softening, losing the earlier tension.

When  Arthur called out again, his voice was far gentler. “ Hey there little fella, you look hungry.”

A small blue jay was sitting in a bush nearby, staring at Arthur with rapt attention. The bird fluttered up and landed a few feet away from Arthur, cocking its head to one side, then the other, as if trying to figure something out.  It hopped closer, then flew back, only to come closer again.  It repeated the process, encouraged by Arthur's gentle coaxing, until it eventually landed on his knee, staring at Arthur intently.  With another beat of its wings it landed on his hand. He and Charles shared a look, an excited grin splitting Arthur's face that Charles could only  mirror . 

T he rustling of leaves startled them both, the blue jay taking of in a fright.  From the thicket behind Arthur's tree a truly  beautiful stag emerged. Ears swiveling back and forth he slowly stepped closer, almost shyly, and sniffed Arthur's face,  shoving his nose into his hair and knocking his hat off. 

“You hungry, boy?”, Arthur laughed, offering the oats which the animal was all to happy to eat. Afterwards the stag went back to sniffing Arthur, even letting himself be petted, until he decided he had enough. He shook his head, pushed his nose into Arthur's face once more and then disappeared into the forest again.

C harles walked over, not sure what to say.

“Well”, he offered, “that was something.”

Arthur nodded. “You could say that.”

Both of them looked at each other, neither of them quite sure what to do or say.

“Should we head back?”

“Yeah, it's getting late.” 

Arthur took Charles' hand to get off the ground,  looking hesitant and uncertain all of the sudden.

“Just don't tell the others about this, please? I have no idea how I would even begin to explain this.”

“Of course not. It's your secret to tell.”

Arthur looked visibly relieved.

“Thanks.”

“Nothing to thank me for.” 

“Also, I need a bath. I think I have deer snot in my hair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This nonsense kept bouncing around in my head until I went and wrote :D Technically it's part of a larger story in which the gang travels to another universe wizard of Oz style where there is no bounty on their head and they start a farm. Unfortunately that story probably will never make it out of my head because of my amazing writing speed of one word per day on average ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ anyway this was fun to write :D please leave a comment :D


	2. How Not to Tame a Deer

“Alright, that should do it. Now where did I...”

Arthur smiled, watching the photographer mutter to himself as he fiddled with his camera. He had not expected to see Albert out here in the middle of nowhere but he really shouldn't be surprised. The man was determined to capture the beauty of the untamed wilderness before it was all destroyed and where would he do that if not in the middle of nowhere. The straw hat and tartan vest were certainly a welcome sight after his run-in with the Night Folk two days ago. Godforsaken swamp with its godforsaken inhabitants.

“Mr. Mason!”

The photographer whirled around like a startled chipmunk, almost knocking his camera over in the process, and clutched his heart.

“Ah, Mr. - Mr. Morgan, I didn't hear you coming. Whoo, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What you shooting anyway?”

“Trees. Trees and a whole lot of nothing I'm afraid.” Albert sounded dejected. “I was hoping for a deer, maybe a stag or a doe and with her fawn but nothing. Even the most amateur hunter could find one within an hour but not me. I have been here three days and have not yet seen a single one.”

He looked like a drowned kitten, small and miserable.

“Three days for a buck?”

“I know, pathetic. Maybe I should just go back to taking pictures of snobby people, arguing about the price because I am _just pressing a button_ and oh my god, I can't do it!”

“No, that's not what I meant! I-”, he raised his arms, “let me help you.”

By God, the look Albert gave him, as if he had all the answers to the world.

“You would do that? Oh, that would be most wonderful. How can I ever repay your kindness?”

“Ah, it's nothing.” He gestured towards the camera, hoping to change the subject. “You need help packing that thing up? I reckon maybe we should try a different spot.”

Albert did not need help, which made sense given that he handled his camera every single day, but unfortunately he also kept thanking Arthur profusely. Even though the only thing Arthur had accomplished so far was scaring Albert and inadvertently insulting him. He really hoped he would be able to draw another stag in just like that one time with Charles. He still had no idea how he had managed that but when he had tried it again one night, with a rabbit this time, the little creature had come close enough to sniff his hand. Not an ounce of fear. Well, maybe a bit nervousness. But still. So this should work, right? Right. At least when he messed up spectacularly Albert wouldn't judge him too harshly.

They arrived at a meadow not that far from where they met. He had camped here before and knew two things. One: There were definitely deer around. So even if he ended up being no help at all, Albert should be able to capture something. And two: at sunset the whole meadow would be basked in the most beautiful golden light. Everything seemed quieter during that time, softer too, almost ethereal.

He jumped off of Artemis and retrieved his bag of oats, figuring he would need some sort of bait. Artemis nosed the bag eagerly, expecting a treat and he gave her a handful before sending her away to graze. Albert was looking at him expectantly.

“So-”, he cleared his throat, “I'd say you set up around there”, he gestured toward some bushes that would keep Albert somewhat hidden while not obscuring his view of the clearing, “and I'll draw 'em over here.” He scratched his head. “That alright with you?”

“Absolutely! Oh, this will be just wonderful, I'll get right to it!”

He couldn't help but smile at Albert's enthusiasm. Taking the bag of oats in one hand he used the other to spread some on the ground. Not enough that they would be visible on a photograph but still enough to hopefully keep any deer interested long enough for Albert to take his pictures. Sitting down against a tree, he closed his eyes. He needed that same calmness he always found when approaching a wild horse. The one he had found before with just Charles watching. He pictured a stag in his minds eye, calm and gentle, basked in golden light and looking directly at him. He felt almost like an old friend.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw a doe peering out into the meadow. Her head was held high and her ears swiveled back and forth, trying to determine whether it was safe or not before she risked another step. Ever so slowly she came closer, eyes watchful but brave enough to continue until she got to the oats. She stopped. And lowered her head to eat when the flash of the camera spooked her, her head flying back up, her nostrils widening and her ears perked. He could see her muscles tightening like a coiled spring that would send her far away from her would-be predators.

“Easy girl”, he told her. “You're alright. Ain't no one gonna hurt you.” And she listened. Her ears, that had been solely focused on Albert a second ago, turned toward him and the rest of her followed.

“See, you're fine. Nothing's gonna happen.”

She shook her head as if disagreeing.

“Come here, girl”, he coaxed her closer.

Beyond all reason she came, trusting him and he couldn't help but smile. Here he was, an outlaw and thief and murderer and yet this wild and fragile creature decided she would be safe with him. He reached out to stroke her neck, offering her some oats with his other hand. She was happy enough to eat the oats but apparently he needed to up his petting game because she shoved her side into his hand, following his movement when he withdrew.

Once the oats were gone (and his hand licked clean) he figured, she'd leave. He was wrong. The doe stepped even closer, giving him a mouthful of hair in the process and then settled into his lap like an oversized lapdog, hanging awkwardly over the side. He was pretty sure he had the biggest, goofiest grin stretched across face but it was hard to care with a deer snuggled up to him.

“You're a sweet one, ain't you?”, he told her, running his hand through the soft fur on her throat. The doe bleated at him. Turning her head around she licked his chin, tickling him. The sound of Albert's camera made him look up again. The photographer had turned around and was now taking pictures of Arthur. He ducked his head.

“Maybe we should get Mr. Mason a better subject than my ugly mug”, he suggested. The doe shook her head and licked his ear.

“I know my lap is nice and cozy but he's working real hard. Won't you help him?” She pushed her head under his chin and bleated again, as he ran his hand along her neck, giving her a bit more coaxing. Untangling her legs as she got off of his lap, earning him another mouthful of fur in the process, she shook herself, before she walked toward Albert. Still completely at ease. He could understand why Albert wanted a photograph. She sure was beautiful posing in front of the camera like that. Letting the photographer take as many pictures as he wanted, she searched the grass for stray oats before she wandered off eventually.

“I did not know deer were that tame”, Albert told him afterwards.

“They usually aren't.” Arthur shrugged, trying to get some feeling back into his left leg, which had fallen asleep. “I guess, I'm just good with animals.” Which according to Charles might be an understatement but anything else felt like bragging.

“Then thank you even more, Mr. Morgan. I couldn't have done it without you.”

“Aww no, it was nothing. I'm happy I could help.” He looked past Albert towards the horizon, the sun almost completely gone by now. He'd probably have to camp outside tonight and then right hard tomorrow.

“I guess, I should get going.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. Don't let me keep you, please.” Albert started fiddling with his camera as Arthur whistled for his horse. He really shouldn't let himself get distracted like this. It would probably be smart to avoid wasting time with wildlife photography. But then again, he was never one to do the smart thing.

“You know, if you need help again just give me a shout.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur has a huge soft spot for Albert Mason (or artists in general - see Charles Chatenay) and no one can convince me otherwise :D  
> also two people asked for another chapter and apparently I am easily swayed :)  
> no promises on if and when more chapters might be happening bc rl   
> but comments are always appreciated ♥


	3. How Not to Tame a Fox

“Please, Arthur.”

“I don't know”, he scratched his head. “Can't you ask someone else?”

“Arthur.” Abigail looked at him reproachfully. He knew full well there wasn't anyone else, at least not with Hosea and John gone to get supplies.

“He had so much fun last time”, Abigail added.

“You mean last time when the Pinkertons showed up?”

“Well that's not going to happen here, now is it?”

He rubbed his face. “Alright, alright. I'll take him.” He'd already lost the fight before he even said a word so no point in dragging it out any longer. He looked around.

“Where is he anyway?”

“Feeding the horses with the – with Kieran.”

“Okay, we'll be back by dinner. Maybe we'll even bring home some fish this time.”

She laughed. “I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Oh you will, you'll see.” He grinned, leaving to grab his satchel and also retrieve his fishing rod from where he had stashed before going to get Jack. The sound of childish laughter greeted him as he got closer, Kieran apparently in the middle of telling a story but falling silent when Arthur stepped into his line of sight.

“Kieran.”

“Ah, Mr. Morgan.” He wrung his hands, nervously.

“Uncle Arthur!”

“Hi, Jack.”

The little boy jumped up. “Kieran was telling my about Branwen!”

“Did he now?”

“Did you know, Branwen once stole and ate an entire sack of carrots?”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. And then she was sooo full she couldn't move.”

He had to smile at the mental image. “Well, a smart girl like her knows no one can steal your food if you eat it all in one go.” He reached out to stroke the aforementioned horse's nose who happily nuzzled his hand, pleased with the attention. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kieran relax, too. Maybe he should check on him later, see what's gotten him so antsy, but for now he had something else to do.

“Hey Jack, wanna go fishing? I found a nice spot just a few days ago.”

“Really, uncle Arthur?!”

He nodded.

“I'm gonna get my fishing rod!” With that the little boy ran off, little legs pumping excitedly. Kieran sidled closer.

“So, a good spot for fishing or a good spot for Jack?”, he asked.

“Good spot to play. As for fishing that remains to be seen.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I'll better get Missy ready.”

“Of course, Arthur.”

He had just finished putting the saddle on, when Jack returned, holding his fishing rod triumphantly. Though given how they had to get everything stashed away when they moved, the kid did find it surprisingly fast.

“That was quick. You ready to go?”

“Yes!”

“Alright then, come on.” He took the rod and fastened it to the saddle before mounting Artemis. Leaning down he grabbed Jack under his arms and seated him in front of him. Fortunately the river was not too far away. He kicked Artemis' flanks, gave Kieran a two-fingered salute and headed out. With the sun warming his back and a light breeze brushing across his face this seemed a good day to get out.

It wasn't too long until he could see the sparkling water and the field of red yarrow, poppies and other wildflowers before it. He patted Jack's shoulder.

“Look, Jack. We're here.”

“So many flowers!” The little boy wriggled in Arthur's grasp as he set him down. “I'm gonna pick some for momma!”

Arthur smiled. “I'm sure she'll love that. I'll try catching us some dinner.” He got his fishing rod. “You need anything, you let me know.”

With that he found himself a good spot to sit and keep an eye on Jack, lazily dangling his bait in the water even though he did not expect to catch much. The meadow was good for flowers not fish, after all.. After a while Jack came to sit next to him, having a collected enough apparently. He saw a lot of yarrow with a few wild carrots thrown into the mix.

“You gonna make your momma a flower crown?”, he asked seeing Jack twist the stems together.

“Yeah.”

Smiling he patted Jack's head. “She'll love it, I'm sure.”

“Uh huh. I can make one for you, too.”

He paused long enough for Jack to look up, too stunned to respond right away. He cleared his throat. “That'd be, that'd be great. I'd like one.”

“Okay, uncle Arthur.”

How in the world a ragtag bunch like them had wound up with such a sweet kid, he had no idea but he knew Abigail was one hell of a mother. Feeling inspired he leaned his fishing rod against the rock behind him and trapped it there with his satchel before taking out his journal. He started sketching the riverside. For a while the only sounds were his pencil scratching across the page, Jack quietly humming to himself and the stream happily gurgling in the background. At one point Artemis wandered over to them and watched them for a bit but otherwise nothing stirred.

Something rustled. He stopped drawing and looked around, searching the grass. Jack was still sitting next to him, happily occupied with his flowers, Artemis was a bit further away, eating, so what had- the grass to his left rustled again, a pair of eyes watching him intently.

“Jack”, he whispered. “Look.”

A fox was sniffing his fishing rod, giving him a look before investigating his satchel. He was pretty sure he had some dried meat in there.

“A fox”, Jack whispered, putting his flowers down and leaning closer. “What is it doing here?”

“Probably looking for a meal.” Arthur closed his journal, setting it down, and held out his hand.

“Hey little buddy, you hungry?”

The fox abandoned the satchel and started sniffing Arthur's hand, giving it an experimental lick. It looked hungry.

“Yeah, I think we can do something about that.” He carefully reached around the small animal and grabbed his bag, only getting it halfway open before a cold nose pressed against his arm and a paw stepped onto his leg.

“It's really hungry”, Jack observed, scooting closer.

His fist closed around his handkerchief holding his provisions of dried meat and he barely managed to pull it out of his satchel before the fox was wagging its tail, tapping excitedly and started licking the hand holding the tasty snack. He pulled out a strip of meat and offered it to the fox. A sniff. A flicker of its ear and then it grabbed the meat carefully with its snout and before devouring it in one bite. Licking its chops it looked at Arthur, tail still wagging. He took another piece and threw it, the fox catching it midair and swallowing it in two quick bites before sitting down expectantly.

“You wanna try feeding him?”, he asked Jack.

“Oh yes! Of course, uncle Arthur!” Crawling over Jack took a piece from Arthur, holding in his fist.

“You remember how to give the horses treats?”

“Yeah, you gotta make your hand flat so they can take it.”

“Knew you was a smart kid. Now you wanna do the same for our little friend here, okay?”

Jack nodded and held out the meat. Stretching its neck the fox tentatively took a step forward and sniffed Jack's hand. When the hand didn't move it shook its head and grabbed the meat. Satisfied with its snack the fox shook its head again and stretched, yawning. It plopped down, head resting on Jack's leg, tail whacking Arthur's arm. Cheeky critter. Jack took the opportunity and started petting its head. The tail wagging intensified. Or more accurately tail whacking because Arthur was sure he was going to have a bruise on his arm if this kept up.

Yet when he tried to move his arm out of the way, the fox apparently interpreted this as Arthur joining in on the petting and rolled onto its back, presenting itself for some belly rubs. And he really couldn't say no to that now could he. Reaching out Arthur brushed his hand through the impossibly soft fur, feeling the hairs slide between his fingers. He felt oddly reminded of Copper who had also loved belly rubs. The fox rewarded the affection with increased tail wagging while also turning up its head to give Jack better access. It seemed to thoroughly enjoy getting its chin scratched. He gave it a few more pats before leaning back and letting Jack take over the cuddling. It was only now that he realized he his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. And he couldn't stop.

Realizing Arthur wasn't going to pet him anymore the fox rolled onto its side again and then, after a moment of consideration, crawled into Jack's lap much to the little boy's delight. The very definition of adorable. He'd have to sketch this later in addition to the other drawing he started. Or maybe he could do it now? Jack was busy playing with the fox, the fox was busy licking Jacks face. Yeah, he could do it now. Leaning down on his elbow he reached slowly reached for his journal freezing when the fox looked up. For a moment he thought the animal was expecting more treats since his journal was right next to his satchel but the fox wasn't paying any attention to him, instead staring at something right behind him.

He turned to realize his fishing rod, forgotten until now, was on its way to the river. Cursing under his breath, and only a second later hoping Jack didn't hear him, he jumped up and ran after it, managing to grab it before it completely disappeared. He pulled hard and something gave.

“Well, would you look at this”, he smiled. “I caught a stick.”

“That's … great, uncle Arthur?”

“It's more than I expected to catch.” He shrugged, amused. He could definitely tell people he caught something. Still holding the stick he went to sit back down when the fox suddenly got to its feet and started sniffing, before standing still and staring at Arthur, head tilted to the right. It yipped.

“What?”

It ran in a circle, yipped again and then backed away, wagging its tail. When they didn't move it ran towards them again, grabbed hold of Arthur's fishing rod and pulled.

“I think, it wants us to follow”, he guessed.

The fox yipped twice.

Jack gripped his hand and pulled him along. “Come on, uncle Arthur!”

“Alright, alright.” He laughed and whistled for Artemis. Together the three of them went traipsing after a very excited fox, Arthur with his fishing rod in hand, Jack still holding his flowers. They left the river behind, crossing the road and followed their furry friend to a copse of trees. It was the same one he had seen once before from afar, riding past it. He had figured it might serve as a good hiding spot for a boar or two and had planned on taking Hosea or Charles on a hunting trip but now he realized it was hiding much more then just some boars.

In the middle of the copse, surrounded by lush green grass was pond, bright and sparkling as anything. A few ducks flew up, quacking angrily, as they got closer. Running ahead the fox jumped around in the shallow water at the pond's edge and before bounding back to Arthur and nudging his fishing pole with its nose. True enough even from where he was standing he could already see fish swimming in the water, one coming up to swallow an insect flying to close to the surface.

“Now that looks like one hell of a fishing spot.” He bent down to scratch the fox behind its ears. “But you knew that already, didn't you?”

The fox wagged its tail and pushed its head into Arthur's hand.

“Are we going to catch fish here?”, Jack asked, peering into the water.

They'd be sure bring something nice back from here but – he looked at the sun. “Maybe some other time, Jack. Your ma expects us back for dinner.”

Jack's shoulders drooped. “But we only just got here.”

He let go of the fox to run his hand up and down Jack's arm. “We'll come back here, promise.”

“And we'll play with the fox again?”

“Sure. If it wants to.”

The fox yipped.

“It said yes, it said yes!” Jack shouted excitedly, only to stop with a frown on his face. “But how will we recognize it?”

“I'm sure we'll know when we see it.” There weren't that many friendly foxes around. And it also had dark paws that looked like it was wearing tiny little boots and a bright tip at the end of its tail that made it look like it had dipped it in paint.

“Wait, I know.” Jack took his half-finished flower crown and tied the ends together before hanging it round the fox's. “There. Now we'll know for sure.”

“That's a great idea, Jack.” The animal sure seemed pleased with its gift, sniffing at the flowers and giving them a goofy grin. “Now come on, we'd better get going.”

They both gave the fox a last scratch before Arthur grabbed Jack and set him down Artemis.

“Ready to go home?”

“Yeah, but we gotta stop for more flowers. I still need to make a flower crown for momma and you.”

He smiled.

“I guess we got time for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely jarbaje unleashed a bunch of plot bunnies in last chapter's comment section and this one was too adorable to ignore. I mean it had baby boy Jack and a cute lil' fox. How could I ignore that? :D
> 
> PS: Comments are always appreciated ♥


	4. How Not to Tame a Cougar

“You're really not going to drop this, are you?” Lenny sounded annoyed.

“I'm just saying-”

“Just saying, yeah right”, Lenny snorted. More resigned than annoyed, really. “Hosea's been talking to you.”

“Hosea's talking to everyone. Kinda what he does, you know. Making sure everyone's doing okay and all.”

Lenny rolled his eyes, looking very much like John whenever Arthur brought up the subject of swimming. Or more accurately Marston needing to learn how to swim. Huh. Maybe he just had that effect on people. He wondered what he'd need to do to get Sean to give him that look. If years of making fun of his inability to shoot straight – or hit a target at all for that matter – didn't do the trick, he had no idea what else would.

He rolled his shoulders.

“But he's right, you know.”

Lenny sighed.

“You're smarter than all of us put together and you're wasting away with degenerates like me and for what?” He fixed Lenny with a stare. “You'd make one hell of a lawyer.”

“That was a lifetime ago and I never should have told you. Also any chance I had died with my father so no point thinking 'bout it now. Too late to start now.”

He offered the kid a cigarette, lighting one for himself. “Just wait 'til you're my age. _Then_ you get to complain about being too old and dumb to do anything else.”

They smoked in silence for a minute before Lenny looked at him again.

“You know”, he ventured, “you're a whole lot smarter than you let on and people would realize if you weren't playing the part of big ol' brute all the time.”

Arthur stubbed out his cigarette. “Anyway, you think this rain is going to stop any time soon?”, he asked.

“Oh so now you're changing the subject?”

“What subject? Just wondering if we should make a run for it anyway. Seems like there's no point in waiting for the rain to stop if it's never stopping. I'd like to get home some time this year.”

He peered out from under the outcrop of rocks there were hiding under. The weather was still abysmal, the wind howling as if to prove a point. And to be fair, if the point was that no sane person would be out and about in this kind of weather, it was certainly right. But it wasn't like they were expecting to get caught in a rainstorm of biblical proportions.

Lenny looked at him dubiously than at the trees that were cheerfully waving at them with every new gust of wind.

“Ah what the hell, let's go.” Throwing away his cigarette and swinging himself into Maggie's saddle he paused to point a finger at Arthur. “But if I get blown off of Maggie I'm blaming you.”

“That's because you young'uns don't learn how to properly ride no more. Back in my day we learned how to ride before we could walk.”

“Uh huh. Lead the way old man.”

The horses seemed as miserable as Arthur felt, to say the least. Despite the wind, that tore at them and tried to pull them out of their saddle – just like Lenny said – and the cold rain soaking them through, the horses soon were huffing and puffing and probably slick with sweat from being forced to trudge through the swamps that used to be roads. Good thing he knew where he was going otherwise he would be lost. What with the raindrops stabbing his eyes.

Once they got home he wasn't leaving for a week. Or better yet a whole month. Let someone else get soaked while he played some dominoes. Williamson could get off his lazy ass for once. That sounded nice. He was about suggest something along those lines to Lenny but changed his mind. With wind roaring he'd practically have to shout in Lenny's ear to be heard. He'd save that warming thought for later. Pulling his head further between his shoulders, if such a thing was even possible, he spurred on Artemis praying to whatever deity bothered listening that they'd be out of this weather soon.

At least something went their way for once when, after what felt like an eternity, the sky cleared and the storm, finally, died down.

“Arthur!”

Or maybe not. _Jesus_.

“Yeah, I see it.” The bridge had collapsed. The damn bridge that they needed to cross the damn river had goddamn collapsed.

“What now?”, Lenny asked. “Should we try swimming across?”

He eyed the rushing water, faster for all the recent downpour.

“Nah, better not risk it. There's another bridge further upstream. Hopefully that one's still there.”

He started to turn away when something caught his attention. He couldn't exactly say what it was that made him look closer but there was something there. Right in the river, between the rocks there was something small and brown and decidedly not made of stone. He jumped off of Artemis without another thought, grabbing his lasso and tying it to his saddlehorn. There was a cougar cub desperately clinging to the stony outcrops and it didn't look like it could hold on for much longer. He tossed Missy's reins at Lenny.

“Hold this, will you.”

“Arthur, what are you-”

“Just give me a minute!”

Wading into the water, almost slipping and falling when the current started pulling at his feet, he wound the rope around left arm, holding on tightly, and reached out with his right. The little one hissed at him when he closed in but otherwise could not defend himself against the hand grabbing him by the scruff of his neck. Pulling the cub close and trying to ignore the sharp, small claws that sunk themselves into his chest – kitten was probably terrified – he stumbled backwards, relying on the rope to keep himself steady. He turned around to realize Lenny wasn't only holding on to the reins, he had also the rope securely in his grip, waiting for Arthur to get back up.

Good man. Accepting Lenny's hand and letting himself be pulled up he made sure to hold on to the cub. No point in getting it out of the river only for it to fall back in because it tried to run off in a panic.

“Holy sh-, that a cougar?”

“Yep.” He shook the rope off of his arm and went for his saddlebag, taking out a cloth to rub the cub dry. At least now he was only miserable not wet and miserable.

“What are we going to do with him?” Not like we can keep him.”

Arthur shrugged, a thought springing to his mind. “You say that as if Dutch wouldn't love having a pet cougar as a status symbol”, he answered with a conspiratorial grin. “Just imagine him reciting Miller while fat, oversized cat sleeps in his lap.”

Lenny snorted. “Sure. But thing is, you can't tame them. An adult cougar finds you and it _will_ chew your face off.”

“Good thing this one's small then.” He adjusted the bundle of fur attached to his chest before mounting Artemis. “I reckon his mother must be around here somewhere, probably upstream since he was in the river. And wouldn't you know it – we're headed there anyways.”

With that he kicked Missy's flanks and although Lenny did not seem convinced probably because the chances of finding cougar, let alone a specific one wasn't easy, he didn't bother arguing. Which was fine by Arthur.

They followed the path in companionable silence for a while, the road growing wider and thankfully less swampy, giving the horses an easier time. He had settled the cub in the saddle in front of him, one hand holding him securely, and so far the little one had been content to sit and watch and occasionally swatting at the reins hanging from Arthur's hand. Though he was getting restless, no longer content with trying to capture the reins and instead deciding to play with Artemis' mane instead. Which she did not like. At all.

“Hey now”, he told the cub picking him and holding him against his chest. “Don't go scaring your ride like that unless you fancy walking. Which might take a while given your short legs.”

The cub acknowledged this by squirming in his grasp until he let him climb up unto his shoulder.

He huffed. “Fine, you can stay there as long as you behave.” He reached up and ruffled the soft fur between the cubs ears. “But if I get your claws in my face, you're walking.”

The cub chirped in what he hoped was agreement.

“Five bucks say you'll wind up with a new scar”, Lenny called over.

“Deal. He's just a baby, he can't hurt me. Right buddy?”

The cub responded by swatting at Arthur's hand, overjoyed to have found a new plaything. First one paw came to bat at his hand, then the other, then both lunged for him and if he hadn't caught the cub with his other hand, the cub would have fallen off. Which left him with one hand being gnawed on and the other holding the little one. Much to Lenny's amusement.

“Need help with that?”, he offered. “That kitten seems to be quite a _handful_.”

“Very funny.”

“No really, I can give you a _hand_ if you need it.”

“You trying to replace Sean as the camp clown?”

“No idea what you're talking about, Arthur”, Lenny answered, his face the embodiment of innocence. Arthur narrowed his eyes and lifted the cub back up onto his shoulder.

“Suuure”, he drawled.

Robbed of his chew toy the cub started investigation Arthur's hat, nosing at, trying to taste it and finally using his paws to pull it down. Right in front of Arthur's eyes. Not like he needed to see where he was riding or anything. He shoved his hat back up. It stayed there for all of five seconds before the cub pulled it down again, tail swishing back and forth excited with this new game. Arthur readjusted his hat.

Leaning forward again and hitting the brim of Arthur's hat, the cub tried his very best to pull it down again. He sort of succeeded. He pulled Arthur's hat so far down, he knocked it off altogether, leaving it to Arthur to catch it before it fell to the grown. Well that wasn't working. And he could hear Lenny snicker.

Not wanting to spend the rest of the ride retrieving his hat every other step, he stored it in his saddlebag. And since that left the cub with nothing else to do, it rested both its front paws on the top of his head, apparently deciding to get a better view, like a bored toddler. Really, if he had wanted a fur hat he could've gotten on at the trapper's. The cub licked his hair. Then again this one was warm and – he mentally added almost as an afterthought – this one could purr, vibrating happily while watching the world from his perch. he probably had never felt this tall in his short life.

He definitely was interested in the birds that got spooked into taking flight when they got too close with their horses, little body twitching with all the anticipation of a hunter on the prowl. Even if he probably never caught more than his mother's tail. Arthur reached up to stroke the fur on his head again, partly because he didn't want the cub to get any ideas about chasing after the birds, and partly because it was so soft he couldn't help himself.

Upon realizing his prey was getting away he started squirming again, squealing and struggling even more when Arthur lifted him off his head and held him close. The little one did not want to calm down.

“Hey boy”, chastised him, “you can't go screaming like that. You're making the horses ner-” He stopped midsentence. The horses were getting antsy and no way that was all pipsqueak's doing, which meant-

“You hear that?”, he asked Lenny.

“Hear what?”

“That!” There it was again, a squeaking sound, getting louder proportional to the horses getting more agitated. Which meant he should hurry. He jumped out of his saddle, told Artemis to wait and jogged over to the edge of the forest. Kneeling he put the cub down, watching him waddle away with a smile when he froze. Right in front of him was a full grown cougar, staring at him unmoving, unblinking. Silent as a shadow. When he heard the sound of a gun being cocked his hand flew up to stop Lenny, inwardly cursing for how it made her tense and narrow her eyes but also not wanting anyone to get shot. Or mauled by claws for that matter.

“She ain't gonna hurt us.” Probably. “She's just here for her baby, right girl?”

Her tail swished back and forth as she stared at him, ears twitching. It wasn't until her cub started rubbing against her legs and pushing his little head under her chin that she relaxed and started licking her cub clean, only briefly pausing to look at Arthur again before continuing. He figured now might be a good idea to scram, seeing as the little pipsqueak was back where he belonged and his mama had decided they probably weren't dangerous. He shuffled backward, not yet daring to stand up.

He almost made it. Just when he thought he could try and get up his boot caught on something, tripping him and making him fall flat on his butt. That definitely got her attention. She cocked her head, staring at him again, before slowly blinking. She walked toward him, until she was inches from his face. Oh boy.

“Uh, good kitty”, he tried, offering his hand to her as he would with an actual cat, letting her sniff with her whiskers pointing forward. For an unbearable second she froze but then, much like her smaller brethren she started rubbing her face against his hand. First one side, then the other and when that wasn't enough, she rubbed her face against his, whiskers and fur tickling. Heh.

“You really are just a big cat, ain'tchu?”

“Mrow?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that's what I though.”

He reached under chin and started running his fingers through the fur there because cats he could do and she honest to god started purring and leaning further down into his hand, thoroughly enjoying his ministrations. Eventually she decided she had enough. Rubbing her face against his one last time before she started calling for her cub and both disappeared in the undergrowth.

Lenny came to stand next to him.

“What. The. _Hell_ was that?”

“Cats”, Arthur shrugged. “You know how they are. Come and go as they please.”

The look Lenny gave him was enough to cut stone. “That is not what I meant!” He got louder with every word. “There was a cougar inches from your face and it's still attached to the rest of yOUR BODY!”

“The cougar?”

“YOUR FACE!”

“I'm good with animals, I guess.”

“Good with- good with animals?”, Lenny sounded close to having a stroke. “This isn't good this is-” He made some gestures that at least to Arthur's knowledge of body language made no sense.

“You do this often?”, Lenny demanded.

“I dunno. Why?”

“I'm trying to decide how mad I am that you never told me you can just cuddle with a dangerous predator and get out of it with all your limbs attached.”

He shrugged, accepting Lenny's hand and getting to his feet. “Maybe a deer or two, a fox. One time a wolf. That one nearly gave Hosea a heart attack.”

“A wolf!?”

“Yeah, quite friendly actually. Now c'mon kid, we wasted enough time as it is.”

Swinging into Missy's saddle and spurring her own, he snickered when he heard Lenny's annoyed huff about not being the one keeping them. He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nerdytf84fan asked how predators would react to Arthur's gift and three days earlier I had watched a documentary about animals at night where a cougar cub went missing and the mama had to go look for it. and well, my hand slipped ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> as always, comments are very welcome. actually go write one now, I love hearing what you think. Or if words are hard try pressing [alt] + [Num 3] at the same time. works like a charm ♥ unless you're reading on mobile, in that case pressing [alt] might be difficult :D

**Author's Note:**

> This nonsense kept bouncing around in my head until I went and wrote :D Technically it's part of a larger story in which the gang travels to another universe wizard of Oz style where there is no bounty on their head and they start a farm. Unfortunately that story probably will never make it out of my head because of my amazing writing speed of one word per day on average ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ anyway this was fun to write :D please leave a comment :D


End file.
